


art show AU

by stilinskitrash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Clarke, Clarke-centric, F/M, Minor Raven Reyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskitrash/pseuds/stilinskitrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the prompt "you're really cute and the way the natural light was hitting you inspired me to draw you and my friend found it and now it's in the art show".</p>
            </blockquote>





	art show AU

**Author's Note:**

> All I can say for this is that I really love Raven Reyes.

Clarke's concentration was abruptly interrupted by her roommate slamming a flyer down on her desk, causing Clarke to jump and accidentally knock her art pencils onto the floor.

⠀"You're going right?" the brunette asked demandingly, her hair tousled and wet from the stormy conditions outside. Raven had just arrived home to their apartment from work, and was clutching a scrunched piece of paper.

⠀Clarke skimmed over the flyer, _College art show... 8pm... Refreshments... Student’s art on show..._ She sighed and nodded, "Yeah sounds okay.” She shrugged. “Where'd you find out about this anyway, Raven?

⠀"Someone shoved it in my face on the way here." she said nonchalantly with a flick of her wrist. Raven was already at the fridge, grabbing a carton of orange juice and proceeding to down it.

⠀"Are you coming with me?" Clarke asked, picking up the dropped pencils and rearranging them back into thickness order on her desk.

⠀Raven smiled at her somewhat mischievously, "Definitely."

⠀The blonde frowned, looking over at her roommate from across the room with a furrowed brow. "What aren't you telling me?"

⠀Raven looked at her scandalously, mockingly holding her hand over her mouth and looking offended. "Me? Hide something? How long have you known me, Clarke Griffin?"

⠀Clarke scoffed, "Too long."

⠀"That's the spirit." Raven winked and disappeared into her room, most likely to change into some drier clothes for the evening. She emerged ten minutes later, which gave Clarke enough time to make some toast, looking completely gorgeous, as usual. A slim purple dress clung to her every curve, showing off a reasonable bit of cleavage and complimenting her skin tone perfectly.

⠀She looked Clarke up and down, cocking an eyebrow expectantly. "Are you not changing?"

⠀Clarke looked down at her own attire; a baggy navy sweatshirt with her college’s name on, and a pair of utterly workout skinny jeans with holes in the knees.

⠀"No."

⠀"Fine," Raven rolled her eyes, walking over to Clarke and linking her arm. "But I would if I were you." She sang, tapping her nose knowingly.

 

⠀The art show had a decent turn out, with nearly twice the amount of people she expected turning up. It was a large open space perfect for exhibitions of any sort, and waiters walking around with platters of god knows what kind of fancy appetizers (that Raven had eaten too many of already). Clarke spent the first half hour mulling around the photography section, with Raven tapping her feet anxiously next to her the whole time.

⠀"What's eating you?" she turned to her roommate, the constant tapping getting on her nerves.

⠀"Can we go look at the paintings and drawings now?" Raven pleaded, already tugging at Clarke's arm in that direction.

⠀She let herself be pulled over to the other side of the gallery and up to a selection of portrait drawings. Clarke recognized a few of the students she had art class with mulling around, and some people she'd seen around campus. She even recognized some of the art on the walls from stuff she’d seen people working on in the work rooms. But one seemed unusually familiar.

⠀It was a pencil sketch of a man with curly dark hair and a strong jaw line, looking to the left, clearly not aware of the artist’s presence. Clarke's mind wasn't working particularly fast, and when the clogs in her mind fit in to place, she whirled around and stared at Raven stunned.

⠀"What the fuck."

⠀"I'm sorry, Clarke, I found it the other day and it was just so good that I had to submit it and- oh my god."

⠀Raven had stopped talking and was staring directly behind Clarke with wide eyes. Just as she was about to ask her friend what she was looking at, Clarke felt a pair of fingers tapping on her shoulder.

⠀She spun on her heels, expecting to come face to face with someone wanting to move past her, but was instead met with a familiar pair of eyes and that spectacularly unforgettable jaw line.

⠀"Are you Clarke Griffin?" he asked briskly, his tone not revealing his much of his emotions or reactions to the painting he had obviously seen.

⠀Clarke snapped back to Raven, but she was gone, disappeared into the crowd. _Damn her_. She cursed under her breath, plastered on a smile, and turned to face the stranger from her drawing.

⠀"Yeah," she said clearing her throat, "that's me."

⠀"And that's _me_." he pointed at the framed drawing with raised brows, and Clarke felt her cheeks burning.

⠀"I-I my friend submitted it, you see, I never meant-"

⠀"It's amazing," a smile tugged at his lips, "you have a lot of talent. And you must have done it in a short amount of time. If you want to draw me again, just ask, and I’ll give you a photo. It'll last longer." he grinned cockily.

⠀Clarke felt a hell of a lot more at ease suddenly, relief washing over her. She placed a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at him, confidence growing.

⠀"What makes you think I'd want to do that?"

⠀"I don't know, maybe because of my natural charm and attraction? I mean, you clearly saw something the first time around, considering how good the drawing is."

⠀Clarke chortled and crossed her arms across her chest, "I was pretty generous in that drawing. I mean, your jaw line isn't _that_ sculpted." she teased, thinking to herself that _oh god, it actually is_. She wished he'd stop smiling at her like that; it was making it hard to insult him.

⠀He feigned offence, holding a hand to his chest and his mouth forming an O. "How dare you? Is my jaw line not good enough for you, princess?"

⠀" _Princess?_ " Clarke's eyes widened at the nickname, not appreciating it much.

⠀"Sorry," he bowed low before her, "would you prefer your Highness?"

⠀"Hey, Bel, did you find her- oh!" A girl with a striking resemblance to the man before her bounded over, light on her feet and younger looking. "So _you_ must be Clarke Griffin." She said with a smirk. "I must say, Bel has been admiring your artwork."

⠀'Bel' nudged the girl with his elbow, showing annoyance, which only made her smile expand. Her hair was intricately plaited in various places across her head, falling free across her shoulders in dark tumbling waves.

⠀She held her hand out to Clarke suddenly, shoving it out to her. "I'm Octavia, and this is my brother Bellamy, who I don't suppose introduced himself, knowing him." Octavia introduced, rolling her eyes playfully.

⠀"Nice to meet you," Clarke smiled, shaking her hand firmly and ring surprised by her grip.

⠀"Well, I can speak for Bellamy when I say that I hope you continue to do more drawings, you should definitely submit more. I'm sure Bel wouldn't complain to a few more of him." Octavia said with a smirk, to which Bellamy looked away and Clarke looked sheepish. He wasn’t so confident when his sister was teasing him.

⠀"Well, I-I should probably get going." Clarke announced, not wanting the situation to get any more awkward.

⠀Octavia nodded and smiled, "Course, see ya around!"

⠀She gave a little wave as she left the pair in front of her drawing and rushed off to locate Raven, who definitely needed a talking to about going through other people's stuff.

⠀"Wait, Clarke!" For the second time that evening, Bellamy tapped on her shoulder.

⠀He was looking at her in a state that could've been identified as anywhere between concerned or frustrated, and in his hand he was clutching a pen. Bellamy grabbed Clarke's right hand and began scribbling away on it. His hands were rough against hers, but warm, and the feeling of his skin on hers made her shiver.

⠀When he finished, she realized it was a phone number; _his_ phone number.

⠀Bellamy smiled at her as he backed away, that annoyingly charming smile he seemed to use when talking to her sprawled across his face. "Call me if you need a model."


End file.
